


miss teen cactus flower

by firstaudrina



Category: Faking It (TV 2014)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 08:14:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2766029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firstaudrina/pseuds/firstaudrina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Lauren's luck that she ends up the wicked stepsister.</p>
            </blockquote>





	miss teen cactus flower

When she's four years old, the only thing Lauren likes is _Cinderella_. Classic Disney, classic Brandy, classic Barrymore, it doesn't matter – after the whole thing with her mom, it's like she latches onto it and nothing else will comfort her. Something about a little girl with nobody except her dad. Or maybe it's just all the sparkle. 

Her dad is faltering in the wake of everything too. He doesn't quite know what to do alone with a four-year-old girl but he tries: watches _Cinderella_ with her endlessly, learns how to match up outfits and brush her hair without hurting her. He buys her Cinderella dolls, little blue and silver gowns sized just for her, commemorative plates, all the branded merchandise, the whole enchilada. He buys her a million different kinds of Cinderella books – and there are _millions_ , Cinderellas of every culture, skeleton Cinderellas, cat Cinderellas, Cinderellas made out of artfully photographed flowers. 

It's Lauren's luck that she ends up the wicked stepsister.

 

 

Lauren finds out she's intersex when she's five. She remembers her dad kneeling down to look her in the eye, grabbing both of her arms, and telling her with a kind of fierceness, "Now you're the same as you ever were, baby, you hear me? No different."

Back then Lauren hadn't understood exactly what it meant to be what she was, so her dad's insistence made her feel strange and uncomfortable. She didn't feel any different. 

A month later he puts her in her first pageant. At first she feels like Cinderella going to the ball, except she has to practice all the time and it's _boring_ and she doesn't like everyone looking at her. And her dad makes sure to instruct her not to tell anyone that new word she learned: intersex.

But she wins that very first pageant too – gets the big plastic crown and a sash that reads _Ultimate Grand Supreme_. She doesn't really know what those words mean either but they make her dad cheer and grin, so they must be good. 

"Now that's my little show pony," he says. He takes her out for banana splits and lets her wear her gigantic, ill-fitting crown the whole time. So Lauren decides to like pageants, because she hasn't seen her dad so happy since before her mom. 

Later, much later, rubbing spray tan into her skin and getting her teeth whitened and gluing three pairs of false lashes to her lids, it's harder and harder to hold onto that reason. Sure, her dad is happy. But is she?

 

 

Lauren has a lot of friends in Dallas, girls who are just like her: perfectly perfect and perfectly vicious. Lauren fits right in, and if she sometimes chafes against the mold, well. No one has to know. Sometimes she and one of the other girls will exchange a glance like two hostages, and then they'll blink and go back to gossipy normal.

There's Ashley, Amber, Heather, Ashley M., and Bianca. They all wear their hair straight with a side part. They all go shopping and pick out the same thing in their personal chosen color. Lauren's is pink. Her dad says it makes her eyes pop. They all have yogurt at lunch together and rip the other girls in their class to shreds. Lauren loves them. She hates them too.

They all shed crocodile tears when Lauren leaves, stuck moving to Austin so her dad can be with some bimbo weather girl. They all promise to write and never do. 

She never tells them anything real about herself. It's better that way. 

 

 

In Austin, everything is just a copy of something nicer Lauren used to have. A new house with a smaller bedroom. New friends with no style. New boyfriend with no brain. And a brand new ready-made sister.

To be fair, Lauren never had one of those before.

Amy is the opposite of everything Lauren stands for. On principle, they're bound to hate each other. Amy doesn't give a shit about anything: she's happy in sweats, wouldn't know a hair mask if it hit her in the face, rolls out of bed and into school in under twenty minutes. She says Lauren cares about things too much but she doesn't get that Lauren _has_ to care. Her lipstick has to match her purse match her shoes. Her hair can't have a single flyaway. She has to look perfect at all times so that everyone knows she is perfect, so everyone knows she's the same as she ever was and no different. 

Lauren's watching beauty tutorials on YouTube and Amy is flipping channels, bitching about some depressing documentary or what-the-fuck-ever. "We get it," Lauren says, rolling her eyes, though they're alone in the house. "You're so deep and interesting and you don't care about how your eyebrows look. Didn't need some crummy docu-proof."

Amy rolls her eyes right back. "At least I'm not watching a random idiot pile half a Sephora onto her face. Vapid much?"

"Who are you calling vapid, you –"

But just then the unmistakable sounds of _Bring It On_ fill the room as the channel Amy landed on ends its commercials. Both of their heads swivel towards the TV like magnets. 

Lauren steals Amy's popcorn as obvious lesbian Missy does about fifty backflips, gaze sliding towards her. "I bet Missy's your favorite, isn't she."

Amy huffs the huff of the caught. "Yeah, well, I bet you like those mean ones who are always trying to take over the squad."

Lauren frowns at her. 

She can't exactly deny that.

 

 

Lauren isn't in the market for a new mother, as much as she wants her dad to be happy. There is no woman worth moving to Austin for, especially dippy Farrah with her clearly exaggerated accent and too much hairspray. Lauren intends to interact with her new housemates as just that: some roommates she isn't particularly fond of that she'll be free of in a few years when she goes to college. 

The thing is, Lauren does start to _sort of_ get what her dad sees in Farrah. She's kind of nice, overly hospitable and undeniably cheery. She's always doing these little things for Lauren like buying the sugar free chocolate she likes and folding Lauren's laundry without being asked. She's the only one who ever wants to go shopping, and pink is her favorite color too. She listens when Lauren bitches about Tommy and then offers pick-me-up mani-pedis. 

Lauren figures Farrah can't be a _new_ mom, because Lauren doesn't remember very much of her mother anyway. Maybe she can just be _a_ mom. Amy doesn't want her so she's basically up for grabs, and she likes all the same things Lauren likes. 

Maybe Austin won't be entirely without its perks.


End file.
